


Never Goes Right (Can't Go Wrong)

by pizzatimes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Play, M/M, Marauders' Era, Oral Sex, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 05:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10678686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzatimes/pseuds/pizzatimes
Summary: Sirius has become quite adept at bringing stars to Remus' eyes. Nonetheless, there's one aspect of a sexual relationship that the two of them have yet to master.





	Never Goes Right (Can't Go Wrong)

The fireplace's atmosphere affects my thoughts the same way it heats my body through. The pleasant attention of good company, along with the gentle haziness of one's first Firewhiskey in a new flat, help as well.

Like many, after graduating Hogwarts, I'm prone to dwelling on doubt, getting snagged on thoughts I'd rather not be having whatsoever; still, there are a few things that can untangle these worries in an instant. One, as all who know me are well aware, is a particularly enjoyable mood stabilizer known as cocoa. Besides its relaxation qualities, and the very simple fact that it's a delight no matter its quality...

there's something undeniably sensual about eating a piece of _really fucking good,_ rich chocolate. Even in the simple action of placing it in your mouth with care... forcing self-control, not letting your hunger and instincts take over and devour, restraining teeth from biting down too hard. The slow melt, sugary and bitter, tongue sliding over it as your eyes flutter shut. It takes over your head, pure sensation, no thoughts penetrating through.

Sounds in your mouth, soft and wet, as you savor it. Rush of pleasure. If you take your time with it, a deeply abiding sense of calm, of being centered in your body... Sirius says I'm mad, that no one should love an inanimate thing as much as I worship this one. Despite that, I've caught him watching, rapt, when I come back down to reality after tonguing a particularly good piece til it's nothing but a soft, sweet sliver.

In this particular instance, as I notice my boyfriend's downright hungry look out of the corner of my eye, I perhaps spend more time licking every last bit of flavor from my lips than is necessary. Opening my eyes again after few moments of shutting out other senses and focusing solely on taste, I catch Sirius' gaze. My tongue lingers at the corner of my mouth, while his practically waters. Always so easy to read. Slowly, and in direct response to his indescribable expression, I raise my eyebrows, catch my lower lip in my teeth for half a second.

His response is more energetic than I expected, but then again, when isn't it? Sirius is on my lap in mere moments, one leg on either side of my own. Love when he gets like this... like our physical separation's something that must be immediately addressed.

That's something Sirius Black is very, _very_ good at.

He's joined in on the task of tasting the cocoa on my tongue, velvet and dark. I'm reminded that, though it seems impossible, there are more enjoyable things to do with a mouth than savor a piece of quality chocolate. As he kisses me soundly, more silky than the candy, Sirius threads his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. He pulls me in deeper. One of my own hands rests on his hip, thumb playing across soft skin.

Our mouths part for an instant, and we breathe heavy against one another. Though my eyes are still closed, I can tell that he's got a smile on.

"That why you bought me chocolates?" I tease, voice low.

 

 

* * *

 

 

My hips shift against his hand without my permission. I bite my lip to ground myself, eyes fluttering closed.

“I still don't think I'm going to fit,” Sirius chimes in.

“Mm. Just... keep doing what you're doing.”

Thankfully, he does, fingers curling inside me. Sirius trails kisses from my navel downwards, then looks up with a comically lascivious smile.

“You know, there's always... other things.” He punctuates the sentence with a movement of his hand.

“We—ah. Right there...” Deep, steadying breath. Another try. “We gave up last time, Pads.”

“Is there anything wrong with sticking to what you're good at?”

“Mmgh.” Fist grips the sheets.

“I'm good at that, for example.”

“Clearly.”

I sit up a few inches and focus on Sirius, trying to shift my expression to something more certain. He winks goofily, licks his lower lip, moves his mouth downwards again. The part of me he's about to swallow protests the interruption as I take his jaw in my hand. Prickly. I thumb the mole by his chin... out with it already, Remus.

“Sirius Black. I need you. All of you. Take me.” It comes out lower than I expect, rougher, more of a command than a negotiation.

He inhales, pupils open, dark.

“Well, fuck.”

“That's the idea.”

The next several moments are bumping and awkward, as these things often are. It seems Sirius has lost the small bottle required for this particular activity. After unearthing it from the covers, he grins up at me and gets to work again.

He really is very, _very_ good at this. Quick learner, knows precisely where to—ah, where to—— _right fucking there, Sirius, I_ ——  
I give up on conscious thought.

Finally, when he hasn't got any more fingers to prepare me with, he moves up and positions his body carefully. We lock eyes. I inhale.

“ _Fuck me._ Now,” I breathe.

All is quiet. My eyes are shut now, anticipation building.

“Oh.”

“Mmh?” I enunciate muzzily, dizzy with him.

“Sorry...”

Sirius isn't the apologizing type; it looks odd on his lips. Reddened, bitten lips. God, I want him.

“Er...”

His mouth twitches.

“Out with it.”

“That's sort of the problem.”

Several puzzled moments pass before I decipher the sheepish expression on his face. That, moments ago... it wasn't extra-enthusiastic lubrication before the main event, that _was_ the main event. My already-flushed cheeks redden to match his.

“Ah.”

“I'm really, really sorry...”

“No, no no no! Don't be, it's alright, it happens, I can just——“

“I'll take care of it, let me take care of it, Moony, I want to.”

I prop an arm behind my head and look down at him, his embarrassment giving way to that particular ridiculous face he knows I can't turn down. It's supplemented this time with a smolder and a quirked lip. The silly face soon dissolves into a self-conscious laugh, and I can't help but smile too.

“Can I?” Sirius asks.

“You don't have to.”

He can tell by my voice what I mean. _For god's sake, yes, why are you taking so long?_

Sirius smiles, self-satisfied, and moves down my body again, laying kisses on me as he goes. He licks a palm as we lock eyes, wraps one hand around me, then sucks on two fingers on the other hand before he enters me with them. Not enough, but a start. The elbow on my thigh that he's leaning on digs in uncomfortably, but I can't bring myself to care.

During one upstroke of the hand that's currently on, and not in, my body, he grips more firmly, pulls slow. As Sirius reaches the end of the stroke, he moves his hand to his mouth again, returns it to my cock, and thumbs the over-sensitized head. My own fluid and his spit are spread down, and finally, he takes me in his mouth again; with a practiced movement he swallows me up. He flicks his eyes up to mine once more, and though he can't smile, I can tell he's proud of himself when he takes all of me.

Sharp intake of breath. Thoughts replaced with raw sensation. Small noises escape unbidden.

His fingers fucking me move just out of sync with his head and fist, and after a few moments, he adds a third and pushes deeper.

I grip the bedframe,

breathe,

back arching,

toes curling,

“More.”

I don't have to tell Sirius twice.

I am both full of him and inside of him; wet sounds and shaky inhalation. One hand gripping the bedframe, one balling up the sheets, body rigid to keep myself from choking Sirius by bucking my hips the way they want to. He's gotten into a perfect rhythm now, encouraged by the noises I'm only half conscious of making. Every nerve ending I have is buzzing; it's almost too much; pressure builds; Sirius is too focused on his task to see what a ridiculous face I make as I release, pulsing, into his throat. Shuddering breath. Body tense as stone, then muscles going limp. He milks me til it's almost painful, and when he's sure he's got everything from me that he can, he looks up at me as he swallows.

His lips are red, mouth looks used. Sirius smiles.

(Which is quite as impressive as his previous work, because if I were him I'd be vomiting from the taste, but that's beside the point and not a very romantic thought besides--)

“I have to say... thanks for finishing early, Padfoot... that was...” Can hardly steady my breathing enough to speak, let alone summon the brainpower to say what I'm trying to say. “Don't have the words.”

“Pleasure's all mine.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

Another smile, more of a smirk, and my boyfriend wipes his mouth, then moves up the bed to settle beside me. I find it difficult to care that we're disgusting, filthy, slick. A shower would be wise, but all I want to do is hold Sirius, feel his breath, his heartbeat, bury my face in his hair and savor the scent of wet dog, cedar, and a musk entirely his own.

Our skin presses together. Sticks. While it's uncomfortable, I wouldn't exchange it for anything in the world.

There's a great many things I'd like to fill the silence between us with. If I said something, though, feebly tried to put the things I'm feeling into words, or even coherent thought... it would take some of my attention away from the warmth of Sirius' bareness against me, on the logistics of curling my lanky body around his.

 

 


End file.
